


Ghouls Night Out

by cemeterybat



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Basement Gerard, M/M, serial killer frank
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 20:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10601394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cemeterybat/pseuds/cemeterybat
Summary: Frank's an androgynous punk in a band called 'I Am A Graveyard' who plays at a vampire bar and covers lots of Misfits. Said underground vampire bar is also famous for its various deaths, but most just assume it's vampire impressionists gone too far. Gerard leaves the basement once and becomes infatuated.





	1. Chapter 1

Falls Church wasn't a town of variety. Gerard figured that out soon enough after being dumped here in a new house for the summer. The house itself was no nicer than the one he’d lived in his whole life, only this one had no lingering smell of stale cigarettes and moldy coffee– it didn't smell like home. The town itself had a smell of farmland and cow manure, despite the fact there were no cows in sight. Gerard had already decided he was perfectly fine locking himself in the small decrepit house with comics and his buffy boxset until the summer was over.

For some reason, his mom decided she needed a break from his dad for a summer and declared that she was taking Mikey with her to some off-road town in New Jersey, far enough from Colorado. Gerard knew his mother to be erratic, but this was another level. In the end, Mikey and Gerard had enough vehement protests between the both of them to convince their parents that they weren't spending the summer apart, so hence the family road trip of Donna, Mikey, and Gerard.

They’d been there a week and the house was just beginning to look familiar and Gerard’s room resembled the grime fest that it was back home, when Donna was ushering the both of them out of the house for the night. Gerard had his signature glare on his face so his mom could plainly see his distaste.

“Why couldn't you just organize a book club at a coffee shop like everyone else does?” he grumbled, eyeing his lukewarm coffee on the table from earlier, and decided to sacrifice his tastebuds for caffeine and finish the cup. He underestimated his gag reflex and took his general displeasure out on his mom in the form of scowls.

“Don’t be childish, Gerard, it’s just one night a week. You and Mikey can find something to do outside of the house at least once a week. You’re making me think you're agoraphobic,” she rolled her eyes, setting the table with various snacks.

“Maybe I am,” he shrugged, which earned an exasperated look from his mother.

“Then we’ll take you to a psychiatrist tomorrow. Here,” at this she reached her hand out to Mikey, dangling keys from her fingers, “you both can take the car. Go find a movie or something,” she suggested. Mikey beamed when Donna handed him the keys, and Gerard raised his eyebrows.

“Mikey doesn't even have his license yet,” he protested. He really didn't know why he bothered arguing now. Either they took the car or they trudged however many miles to some movie theater, either way their mom was kicking them out of their own house.

“He was perfectly fine when we drove go-carts,” she said, and Gerard didn't have any more energy in him to argue so he silently followed Mikey out the front door. “Try to have some fun!” they could hear their mom yell before Gerard shut the door behind them.

“You at least know how to turn it on, right?” Gerard raised an eyebrow, and Mikey returned by flipping him off and getting into the driver’s side.

“I’m sure I’m a better driver than you. At least I haven’t totalled two cars,” Mikey shot back with a grin.

“Yeah, because you haven't driven a car yet!” Gerard said, exasperated, making a show of buckling his seatbelt and decided to pull up movie showings on his phone. “Any horror movies out?” he asked, following by a groan when Gerard flung forwards in his seat, throwing Mikey a glare when his seat belt nearly choked him to death.

Mikey flushed and shrugged. “Sorry, I think I’ve got it now,” he said, and Gerard mumbled a ‘we’re gonna die’ when he noticed one of Mikey’s feet on the brake, and the other on the gas.

“I didn't see any movies but Ray said something about a concert tonight, I think it’s supposed to be cool?” he suggested, and Gerard shrugged indifferently. They had been here a mere week and Mikey had already managed to find a best friend and hear about local shows going on. Gerard never questioned his brother’s charm.

“You should probably pull up the directions on your phone. I don't think I can text and drive,” Mikey said.

“Oh, so now he’s a good driver,” Gerard rolled his eyes. “What’s the place called?”

“It’s, uh, ghouls night out, I think,” Mikey said, having enough trouble not driving onto the neighborhood sidewalks.

Gerard perked up at the misfits reference, though did little but hum in approval– he had to keep up appearances of his distaste for this town. If he ever let on that he liked the place, they might never move back home since it was apparent Mikey and his mom had already grown fond of the people. Gerard never really liked people much to begin with, no matter the town.

After three near-death experiences with Mikey behind the wheel, they found a place to park behind the venue and Gerard felt like he was about to vomit. “People with lanky legs shouldn't be given cars,” he came to the conclusion after getting out of the car on disoriented legs. Mikey only laughed and dragged Gerard to the side of the building and around to the front.

“C’mon, you've gotta meet Ray,” Mikey was gushing, but Gerard was too busy watching the people walking into the place. They were all decked out in full dracula costumes. There were times when Gerard was tempted to show up to school in his bela lugosi halloween outfit, but he never really _did it_. These guys seemed to go all out, and for that, Gerard had respect. He was somewhat jealous of them and the fact that he apparently lacked the balls for it. But when him and Mikey actually followed the people into the club, the entire place was swarming with people painted with white makeup and adorning horribly fake vampire teeth. Bauhaus was playing loudly through the overhead amps. Through his confusion he vaguely registered Mikey laughing behind him.

“You obviously haven't explored this town much,” Mikey said with a chuckle.

“I didn't even know this town had back alleys, I figured we just lived in suburbia,” Gerard was still trying to wrap his head around the scene when he finally noticed a large-haired guy lingering beside Mikey. This guy didn't look like the rest of the crowd, though, with his Ziggy Stardust tshirt and baggy jeans.

“Hi, Gerard, right? Mikey told me he was bringing his brother. I’m Ray. Your shirt is super cool, by the way,” he grinned, gesturing to Gerard’s homemade tshirt mashup of Morrissey and the Misfits. “This is Jersey, for sure. Suburbia on one corner and punk shows on the other,” Ray said proudly.

“This is a punk show?” Gerard asked skeptically, eyeing a particularly sensual couple gyrating against the staircase through the material of their capes.

“The music is, yeah,” Ray shrugged, as if this kind of atmosphere was normal, which apparently it was here. Gerard wasn't sure if he was in love or repulsed. Probably both.

Ray gestured to the section near the bar, which Gerard had just noticed was where the stage was, and followed Ray’s hand with his gaze to see a group of kids with mohawks of varying colors. “This is really the only cool venue around here for punk bands to play, but the crowd isn't usually all that segregated,” Ray added, and Mikey was already trying to drag them both to the front. “The band should've been here an hour ago, but they never show up on time. Sometimes they're an hour early and sometimes they just never show up,” Ray said, letting Mikey lead them past the group of adamant vampire impressionists.

Just as Gerard let himself be yanked– courtesy of Mikey– to a group of kids as equally pale as the rest of the crowd, just wearing leather jackets instead of capes, there was a loud screeching feedback noise coming from one of the amps onstage, and Gerard reeled back as if he’d been punched in the face.

“Finally,” Ray grinned, and Gerard was about to question him before people with guitars and mics and previously not set up equipment came running onto the stage through the feedback noise and cheering of the venue. The stage lights weren’t on yet, but Gerard still noticed the lead singer fumbling with the mic stand. Gerard was caught off guard, but not sure by what, until he examined the person closer and he understood- they were completely without a definite gender. They had shorter, spiked hair that was dyed a hot pink at the top– more of a guy’s mohawk style– but had incredibly feminine facial features with heavy eyelids and long eyelashes, and was wearing girls-cut ripped skinny jeans and high tops. Gerard was at a loss.

He was trying to discretely examine their torso for a clear sign of breasts (a highly impossible mission due to the fact they were wearing a loose fitting tshirt), when the stage lights finally shone on the stage and Gerard suddenly mistook the person to be physically _glittering_. Well, perhaps vampires were a thing and perhaps Stephenie Meyer got it right. But upon closer inspection Gerard noticed they were wearing fucking glitter. It radiated off their pale skin in a way that was mesmerizing, and Gerard was rapidly falling in love and they had yet to play a single note yet. They looked to be around Gerard's age (maybe 17 or 18?) and didn't really look like they belonged in a punk band, but rather the street corners. Like, a drag queen in training, putting on stilettos for the first time while also wearing jeans. It all kinda screamed David Bowie and Joan Jett and Gerard was easily infatuated considered both stars had made regular appearances in his late night fantasies.

“Ladies and gents!” their voice came through the speakers, and Gerard was at more of a loss. “We’re I Am A Graveyard, this one’s a personal favorite called Attention Reader,” they grinned a crooked smile, showcasing their teeth, and music not dissimilar to the noise of feedback started to play and Gerard was already transfixed on the stage, or more accurately, the lead singer. They had more energy than Gerard had ever seen any one person possess, and Gerard was surprised they hadn't smashed the guitar they had slung around their shoulders from the way they were swinging it around haphazardously. Gerard had always questioned his sexual orientation, but his sexuality might as well be the nameless singer of this punk band.

The first song seemed to last longer than usual, and from then on, the set consisted solely of misfits covers, namely 'Mommy Can I Go Out And Kill Tonight' and 'Vampira'. It was obvious this band knew who their audience was, or they probably had been playing this venue awhile. Still, Gerard found himself enjoying himself (not that he would ever let his mom know) and was somewhat disappointed when the singer stated that was their last song, repeated their band name, and the band escaped backstage again. No mention of meeting people afterwards or selling merch or anything. Maybe they were too small of a band to think they could get away with making a profit off their shows.

"Good, right?" Ray had to yell over the bauhaus that apparently was on a running loop through the place, and Gerard grinned.  
  
“Who’s the singer?” he tried to ask in a way that came off as nonchalant, but really he probably sounded like an eager groupie.

“Oh, Frank? He has a couple bands that play here, he pretty much owns the place, books the bands that play and all, since the real owner is pretty lazy,” Ray chuckled, but Gerard had stopped listening after Ray used the male pronoun.

“He? He looked pretty.. not male,” Gerard pointed out dumbly, and Ray shrugged.

“That’s how he refers to himself. But, yeah, he’s usually pretty androgynous,” Ray said, taking the time to look around for Mikey. “Seen your brother?” he said, looking vaguely concerned. Gerard chuckled.

“Probably already picked up some girl at the bar,” he said with a shrug, scanning the bar once for Mikey and twice for Frank.

“So your brother’s straight?” Ray asked in the same way that Gerard had asked about Frank, and Gerard managed to keep a straight face.

“I don't really know, he’s only 15, and who really knew their sexuality at 15,” Gerard brushed it off. Hell, he was 18 and still had no idea.

Ray only nodded as if in thought, and Gerard had no idea if he just potentially ruined a friendship for possibly giving Ray false hope. Whatever, Mikey had done worse favors for Gerard.

When Gerard came to the conclusion that the band wasn't going to show to hang out, he fumbled for his pack of cigarettes, holding it out to Ray.

“Smoke?” he offered, and when Ray nodded, his entire hair seemed to bounce on his head, and him and Gerard found the back exit.

He was in the middle of pulling a cigarette from his pack when the very obvious glitter caught his attention, and Gerard almost broke his cigarette in half. Ray snickered behind him, and offered to light it for him. Gerard gave Ray a thankful glance for probably saving him from future embarrassment of trying to light his own cigarette with clumsy fingers. Gerard had hardly taken a single drag before the band seemed to notice them, and the lead singer practically bounded up to them, a grin on his face.

“Hey! You guys were at the front, yeah? How’d you like the show? I noticed you knew almost all the misfits lyrics, which was rad. Oh, and your shirt is super fucking cool, too,” the guy rambled, gesturing to Gerard’s morrissey and misfits tshirt, and Gerard took awhile to process all the words, especially when the venue’s back lights were shining on Frank’s makeup in a way that made them look otherworldly.

Apparently because Gerard was having a hard time finding words, Ray spoke up. “Yeah you guys are always great. The misfits covers are a smart idea,” he grinned, and Frank laughed, a sound that Gerard quickly grew infatuated with.

“Yeah, the songs were on our setlist regardless. This particular crowd just seems to love them,” Frank said, turning his attention back to Gerard, or more specifically, the pack in his hand. “Mind if I bum one? The rest of the band are kleptomaniacs when it comes to cigs,” he said with another chuckle. Gerard fumbled with his pack until he could hand one over to Frank’s fingers, painted with black nail polish and half-hidden by fingerless gloves.

“You guys usually play here?” Gerard guessed, finally finding words as he lit Frank’s cigarette with no fatal casualties of accidentally setting anyone’s hair on fire. Gerard was grateful to whatever deity was out there.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a lot more fun than the other places in Jersey. Plus we get free fake blood out of it,” Frank said with a crooked smile, and Gerard noticed for the first time that Frank had cheesy vampire teeth in, something that had not been there during the set. Somehow, it seemed to work for Frank more than the others, in a way that was eerily realistic. And watching Frank smoking a cigarette with vampire teeth had Gerard’s middle school self internally nerding out. Gerard quickly pushed that part of himself to the back of his mind.

“Well it was nice meeting you, uh..” Frank trailed off, and Gerard blanched. Again, Ray to the rescue.

“I’m Ray, and this is Gerard,” he said, and Gerard was jealous of his nonchalantness.

“Cool, well I’m sure I’ll see you guys around then. Thanks for the smoke by the way!” Frank waved a gloved hand back before joining his band, who had recently started to pile into a shitty looking white van, covered in vulgar spray paint art and messages.

“I think you're drooling, dude,” Ray laughed, and Gerard flipped him off.

“Like you're drooling over my brother?” he said with a grin, and caught of a hint of the flush on Ray’s face.

“Whatever, we can get Mikey and go before someone offers to rip into our throats,” he said, with a tone that had Gerard uneasy.

“Not literally, right?” he asked anxiously, and Ray chuckled before disappearing back into the venue, and if his plan to wig Gerard out even more, it was working.

Soon enough, they managed to find Mikey at the crowded bar, and Gerard eyed him skeptically when he noticed the fake teeth in Mikey’s mouth.

“What? They glow in the dark,” Mikey said defensively as he followed Ray and Gerard out to the parking lot. Gerard was only vaguely jealous that he hadn't gotten any vampire paraphernalia himself. Ray lingered by their car, grinning over at them with an unnatural amount of content. Seriously, the guy seemed to find the joy in everything.

“Well, I’ll see you guys here another night then?” he suggested, and Gerard found himself agreeing when he thought of Frank. The singer was seriously fucking up his adamant protests to hate this town.

“Probably, considering there's not much else to do here,” Gerard said in a tone he hoped sounded casual.

“Sure, ‘cause it'll give you an excuse to see Frank again,” Ray quipped, and Gerard shot him a glare while Mikey looked at Gerard with an amused smirk.

“I just liked his music, alright?” Gerard grumbled. “C’mon, mom’s book club is probably over and the house should be safe,” he said, already getting in the passenger’s side. He noticed Mikey offer Ray a wave and a grin before getting in the car himself.

Gerard was grateful when Mikey didn't utter a single smug comment on the car ride home, and they instead blasted Gerard’s Bauhaus CD on the stereo in irony of their night.

Sure enough, Donna was cleaning the snacks off the table when they got home. No other middle-aged woman in sight.

“So how was the movies?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, practically cornering Gerard before he could escape back to the basement. Screw his mom’s maternal hovering tactics.

“We just hung out with Mikey’s friend, Ray,” he said. “You should really make Mikey take driving lessons,” he added.

Somewhere in the kitchen came Mikey’s voice, “I did fine after I figured out the brakes!”

Gerard only looked at his mom with a pointed look of betrayal.

“I’m sure he did fine,” she said with a shrug. “So you both had fun with Ray?” she continued to question, and Gerard’s sense of impending doom grew stronger. They were never going home.

“It was fine,” he said, repeating his mom’s passive word choice. At this, she scowled at him and threw her hands up as if in defeat. Gerard grinned triumphantly and wandered into the kitchen for coffee.

“I don't understand why you hate this place so much,” Mikey chimed in, to Gerard’s annoyance. His entire family was rising up against him.

“Because it's not my home, it’s just mom’s vacation house. Plus, there's no mountains here,” he argued as he waited for the agonizingly slow coffee pot to drip.

“But back home we don't have vampire bars,” Mikey joked, and Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Poorly decorated vampire bars. Seriously, Joss Whedon would be so disappointed,” he said, busying himself by adding alarming amounts of creamer and sugar to his coffee.

“Whatever, then you can apply for the job to redecorate the place.”

“No way am I getting a job here. No roots, remember,” Gerard said, determined, and Mikey shrugged.

“Even if it meant working with glitter guy?” Mikey said with a smug smile, needing to have the last word as he left the kitchen. Gerard raised his middle finger to Mikey’s back before grabbing his coffee and leaving to the basement. After shucking off his hoodie and crawling under his Star Wars sheets, he underestimated how tired he really was after going out for the first time in weeks, and quickly passed out, his coffee forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a full 48 hours since Gerard saw I Am A Graveyard. He had no reason to leave the house since his mom didn't care if he smoked in the house, and he didn't have a dog to walk or anything. He had considered finding a coffee shop, but hadn't managed to scavenge up the minimal effort it took to crawl out of bed and put pants on. It didn't seem worth it when he could just get coffee upstairs for free in his boxer shorts.

Thing was, lying in bed all day watching old horror flicks was recently becoming routine and mundane. He had never had a problem with it the past week that he'd been here, but going out with Mikey and Ray and seeing a live band held more appeal than slowly becoming one with his mattress. That, and sharing a cigarette with Frank had been the highlight of his time here. He held a riveting life.

This was the reasoning behind Gerard begging Mikey to go out of the house with him– he didn't necessarily want to go alone.

“I would, Gee, but Ray’s coming over to play video games later,” Mikey said, looking genuinely guilty about it. Gerard wasn't sure if ‘playing video games’ was a euphemism for makeouts, but he figured Mikey would've told him something by now if Ray and him ever became a thing.

“You gonna ditch me for Ray all summer, then?” Gerard only half-joked, and immediately felt bad when Mikey gave him another apologetic puppy-eyed look.

“Y’know what, don't worry about it. Maybe I’ll go bother mom to order takeout,” Gerard decided, standing up from Mikey’s bed, Mystery Science Theater still playing in the background.

“Yeah, we can find something to do tomorrow,” Mikey offered, and Gerard nodded his agreement before leaving Mikey’s room. So he had put on pants and even did his eyeliner for nothing.

Gerard was halfway to the basement when he found himself asking his mom for her keys.

“You're going out?” she had tried to sound casual, but failed and her shock bled through. “Since when? Are you and Mikey going to hang out with Ray again?” she asked, apparently giving up on her nonchalant facade.

“Uh, no, Ray’s coming here. I was just gonna go to the coffee shop to draw or something,” Gerard conjured a lie, not in the mood to deal with his mom’s reaction if he told her that he wanted to go to a vampire bar alone to hopefully find some free booze. Nope.

Apparently he made the right decision with the lie because her face brightened in pleasant surprise.

“So you're drawing again?” she asked. For some reason, Gerard had lately lost his appeal for drawing, probably due to the mound of art he had submitted to companies, only to be rejected with passive aggressive emails. It seemed as though major art cooperations weren't interested in gorilla-human hybrids at the moment and as far as Gerard was concerned, that was their loss.

“Gonna try to, yeah,” he shrugged. “But I’d rather not walk there in the rain, so..” he trailed off, and she reluctantly reached for the keys hanging on the wall and handed them to him. Gerard grinned.

“Try not to total this one,” she sighed, and Gerard gave her a half-hug and a quick ‘thank you’ before disappearing out the front door before he could change his mind.

He grumbled an incoherent cursed complaint to the sky when rain drenched him in the few seconds it took him to get to the car. Nonetheless, the grease in his hair probably needed it.

It only took him 15 minutes to drive there, but it was enough time to second guess himself at least 20 times.

It wasn't until he walked through the door that he realized he sorta fit the crowd, wearing as much eyeliner as most of the people there, and god knows he was pale enough to pass as undead. Not that any of this helped in his dating efforts, however (not that there was much ‘effort’ to speak of, either). Hey, he could probably find someone here to talk horror novels and possibly make out with before never seeing them again.

Speaking of, he turned his gaze to the bar to see if he could find glitter and pink hair in the sea of people there. He hadn't even thought to check the stage where a different band was playing, but that's where he found the pink hair– onstage and singing for a totally different band, this one with a homemade banner that read ‘Pencey Prep’. It was relatively similar punk music, but somewhat less aggressive and more lyrical. Also Frank had replaced the glitter with eyeliner, and this time he was wearing a simple band tee and ripped jeans.

Gerard, once again, was struck with fascination as the singer still managed to look half-boy, half-girl. The softer tone of the songs only accentuated Frank’s feminine voice. Gerard itched for his sketchbook, a new comic book character idea stitching together in his mind already as he watched Frank thrash around onstage.

‘Thrashing’ was totally the right word, because just then, Frank had slammed his guitar particularly hard on the stage floor, and apparently hadn't thought of the consequences, because it looked like a couple of the strings had snapped and were sticking out in random directions. Frank looked obviously upset about it when he couldn't finish the song, and despite the fact that there was another guitar player in the band, Frank refused to sing anymore, and sat at the edge of the stage with his guitar in his lap, looking very much like a child in a tantrum. Gerard couldn't help but note how endearing it was, actually, and also felt irrationally personally guilty, as if Gerard himself had gone up, taken Frank’s guitar, and smashed it.

The overhead speakers quickly picked up and started to play soundtracks from Tim Burton films when it was obvious that no band was going to play anymore. Gerard had found a lone, half-empty beer on the edge of the bar counter, and against his better judgement of potential roofies or strangers’ germs, he downed the rest of it as a means of liquid courage before walking up to the stage. It had no barrier and it was relatively low to the ground, so that when he approached Frank who was sitting at the edge, they were practically eye-level.

“Hey, uh, wanna cigarette?” Gerard had to gather all his courage, plus the little extra that the beer had added, just to say the words. He had never been any good with social interaction to begin with. Who needed friends when you had imaginary character sketches to keep you company.

Frank finally lifted his head at the sound of Gerard’s words, looking deeply confused for a few seconds before his face lit up. Literally, no glitter fucking required.

“Really? You’d offer me a cigarette even after that shitty set?” Frank said, obviously still guilt tripping over the broken guitar string, but the grin on Frank’s face kept Gerard’s confidence from falling to the depths of hell to never return again. Instead, he found more words.

“Yeah, I mean, from what I heard it sounded pretty cool,” Gerard said honestly, and flinched backwards, spluttering a “Gah!” as Frank suddenly decided to leap forwards off the front of the stage to join Gerard on the floor. As Gerard was still struggling to regain his footing, he felt hands pawing through his hoodie pockets.

“Aha!” Frank pulled back, now holding Gerard’s pack of reds in his hands. Apparently the guy had no sense of personal space. And it wasn't until Frank was mere inches from Gerard’s face that he realized just how short the other was. Like, at least a solid 5 inches shorter than Gerard.

“Hey- I was gonna give you one anyway,” Gerard protested, feeling vaguely violated. Frank flashed a toothy grin in response.

“This way was more fun. C’mon,” Frank said, already tugging Gerard out the back exit, with Gerard still slightly stunned behind him. It wasn't raining outside anymore, thankfully, but it was still bitter enough to raise goosebumps on Gerard’s arms.

“So you really meant what you said? About our songs being cool?” Frank asked, taking a cigarette and lighting it before putting the pack back in Gerard’s pocket. Gerard had to pull it out again to get his own.

“A lot cooler than other bands I’ve seen live,” he nodded, even though the number of bands Gerard actually saw live was pretty small.

“Yanno, that means a lot coming from a guy with seriously rad music taste,” Frank beamed, looking childish, but not exactly younger– just teeming with child-like glee. Gerard was about to ask him how he even knew what music Gerard was into- considering they had only talked for, like, half a minute the other night- but then the wind picked up and it had Gerard shivering in his thin hoodie, and instead ended up asking Frank if he wanted to abandon their cigarettes for warmth, since the other was still only wearing a tshirt.

“Nah, man. Are you hungry?” he asked, and Gerard had a hard time following Frank’s train of thought, especially when the wind made the pink hair ontop Frank’s head fall into his eyes, making him look unnecessarily hot. Gerard was doomed.

“Uh.. I guess I could eat. Why?” Gerard asked, skeptical.

It really shouldn't’ve surprised Gerard when Frank seized his wrist again to start tugging him away from the club. The guy really enjoyed dragging people around.

It was when they were no longer under the safety of the venue’s lights and away from the crowd of people that Gerard’s mind started to race a mile a minute. Gerard could've just willingly agreed to get kidnapped and taken to a secluded alley that probably smelled like rancid garbage to promptly be murdered. Not that Frank exactly looked dangerous– serial killers didn't have pink hair. But it was the atmosphere of the place at night, people dressed up in vampire costumes roaming around, and Gerard swore he heard fucking crows in the distance. It suddenly dawned on him that Frank played at this venue a lot, so he must at least like the scene, but what if he was really into that hardcore vampire roleplaying shit? Gerard blanched and stopped dead (hah!) in his tracks, causing Frank to stumble backwards with his grip on Gerard’s arm, and Frank gave him a quizzical look.

“Okay, when you asked if I was hungry, you meant for real food, right? Not, like, blood or anything? Because, I mean, I like vampires as much as the next guy, but I’m not really good with pain or anything, and blood actually makes me kinda queasy, and I don't wanna vomit on you,” Gerard rambled. He could've gone on, but Frank’s relentless giggling stopped him short. Gerard wasn't sure if the sound was endearing or deranged.

“I meant pizza, dude,” Frank said, as if Gerard was unreasonable for thinking otherwise. It was totally reasonable, given the circumstances. “Blood’s cool, but it’s not really a meal. More like a nighttime beverage,” Frank grinned, and Gerard couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

“Yeah, no, right,” Gerard said intelligently, “but I don't, uh, have any money on me,” he added reluctantly. He had given the man at the door his only cash.

Frank laughed. “Me neither. But if you tell Dominos that you're homeless and don't have any money, they have to give you food,” Frank said in a whispering tone as he told Gerard a trade secret. Gerard couldn't help but feel honored.

As they were walking, Gerard had just been following Frank blindly until they reached the vaguely pedophile-looking graphitti van, and Gerard raised an eyebrow questioningly at Frank.

“We really are homeless, actually,” Frank started. Literally anything Frank said sounded cool in Gerard’s mind. “Welcome to our crib,” he grinned, opening the back trailer (which Gerard noticed was unlocked– seriously, anybody could rob them). A pungent stench of cheese and grease wafted into the night air, accompanying the cigarette smoke in a way that could only be described as _grime_. Gerard’s stomach growled nonetheless– he had forgotten to bother his mom for takeout before he left the house.

“Uh, Frank, how old is this pizza?” Gerard had asked skeptically, because after they had climbed into the back of the trailer, another smell that was even more foul and totally unwanted, invaded Gerard’s nose and he had to resist the urge to gag. Gerard himself could be pretty grimy sometimes– particularly his basement with a plethora of moldy coffee mugs and unwashed tshirts– but this was a whole new smell that nearly made Gerard’s eyes water. He suddenly wasn't hungry anymore.

Frank didn't seem to notice as he crawled to the back, retrieving a box of pizza from a mountain stack that was fifteen boxes high, and was already shoving a slice into Gerard’s hands.

“We stock up every week, but this one’s from yesterday. Don't worry, I wouldn't intentionally give you food poisoning,” Frank grinned. Gerard noted that there was still the “unintentional” option, but he didn't mention it and ate the pizza.

And

It was surprisingly good– normal, greasy cheap cheese pizza.

“Okay, then what's that awful smell?” Gerard grimaced. His pizza would've been, like, a thousand times more appetizing to eat if he wasn't occasionally breathing in something that smelled like death warmed over. Maybe it was roadkill that the band had picked up off the side of the road and never disposed of. Gerard tried not to think too hard about it while he was eating.

“Yanno what, I don't wanna know,” Gerard was quick to add. Frank’s grin remained.

“Good, cause I seriously have no idea,” he giggled through a mouthful of half-eaten pizza, and Gerard scrunched up his face in disgust and looked away.

“Grosss, dude,” Gerard said, much to Frank’s delight– he had only giggled more.

When Gerard had averted his eyes from Frank for the first time that night, he finally noticed all the slimy pairs of vampire teeth– some glow in the dark– hanging from a clothespin around the walls of the trailer. It had the same appeal as the venue, but more agro with the already-used, spit-covered teeth.

“Is this where you bring all your fans to eat pizza?” Gerard asked, eyeing a taxermidized bat preserved in a display box.

“Only the cool ones,” Frank beamed, and Gerard tried to keep a straight face but he was sure he was grinning like a bastard. “Yeah, but we don't have fans. Not really. Mostly just a group of the same people who show up often ‘cause there's nothing better to do. That, and the people who come for the whole undead fetish thing,” Frank shrugged.

“I’d say the regulars are fans,” Gerard argued. “Have you tried talking to any of them?” he asked, thinking back to the other night when Frank had finished his set and he immediately left out the back exit.

“I don't go out looking for groupies afterwards, if that's what you mean,” Frank laughed, and Gerard immediately flushed.

“No, that's not what I meant,” he said quickly. “But, I mean, that would be sort of a bonus after you talked to them,” Gerard added as an afterthought. If Gerard was in a punk rock band– 2 punk rock bands for that matter– he totally would've taken the opportunity. God knows he didn't exactly have the opportunity lately.

Frank hummed and tapped his finger to his lips, as if actually considering it. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next show. Maybe I’ll buy someone a beer,” he joked.

“When is your next show. anyway?” Gerard asked in a way he hoped didn't sound too stalker-ish.

Frank’s face seemed to brighten even more at the question. “It’s this sunday. You gonna be there?” he asked, eyes wide and bright and hopeful.

“I mean, if you have free pizza every night, I’ll definitely be there,” Gerard said, as if he wouldn't show up anyway.

“Rad! Maybe you can come on our next pizza robbery mission with us,” Frank grinned, and Gerard couldn't exactly resist the shark teeth and puppy dog eyes. Seriously, Frank had creepy persuasion powers over Gerard. Frank could've asked Gerard to jump off a cliff for him, and he probably would've done it.

“Just let me know the date so I can put it in my calendar,” Gerard joked.

“Nah, we never plan that far in advance. I can text you, though?” Frank asked with that same hopeful expression.

“You have a phone?” Gerard asked bluntly. He figured a guy that lived in a van and ate charity pizza wouldn't have a data plan.

“Yeah, my mom still pays for it so I can call her and stuff. She still wants me to move back home and finish high school,” he shrugged, and reached over to Gerard’s jacket pocket to snatch his phone with greasy fingers.

“Your mom let you drop out of high school?” he asked incredulously, watching as Frank typed in his number.

“She didn't really let me. She was pretty mad when I did it,” he shrugged, handing Gerard’s phone back to him.

“So if you're young enough to still go back to school, how old are you?” Gerard asked. He had set his pizza aside– no luck eating it with the stench pervading the air of the trailer– and had subconsciously been leaning forwards on his knees, fascinated by Frank in front of him. And Gerard totally did not want to kiss him. Nu-uh. If he pretended the urge didn't exist, then there was nothing to resist.

“I’m 17, so I guess I could still fit in if I go back. For the most part,” he chuckled. “I think you said you were still in high school?”

“Yeah, one more year,” Gerard said gloomily. “Hopefully I won't have to transfer here. I’m supposed to go home at the end of the summer,” he said with little confidence.

Frank looked upset at that. “You're leaving?” he said, again with those puppy eyes that Gerard couldn't look away from. “But you just got here, dude!”

“As appealing as underground vampire bars are, all my friends are back home.” Which, if Gerard was honest, consisted of only Gabe and Pete, who Gerard had met because they were Mikey’s friends first.

“Well you seem to have friends here, too? Those guys I met last night?” Frank asked, picking at the loose threads in the holes in his jeans, and Gerard got distracted by the tiger tattoo on his knee.

“Hm? Oh, that was just my brother and his crush,” Gerard chuckled, and Frank looked amused.

“You gonna tear your brother away from his new possible lover? That's not very brotherly of you,” Frank patronized, and Gerard should've been annoyed with Frank’s teasing, but he was still sorta struck by the fact that it seemed Frank actually wanted him to stay.

“Well neither of them seem to be doing anything about it, so it could be eons before they even address it,” Gerard added, and Frank quickly adopted a mischievous grin on his lips that made Gerard uneasy.

“There you go, that's our new summer project. We’ll get them so in love and macking on each other that you'll never get to leave,” Frank beamed and Gerard was looking at him incredulously.

“I don't think you're prepared for a long term commitment. I mean, it’ll probably last the whole summer before Mikey will even hold the guy’s hand. He’s very adamant about the whole ‘liking girls’ thing,” Gerard shook his head.

“I’ve already accepted the challenge. C’mon, be my partner in crime,” Frank said with a grin that was all teeth, including the fake sharp ones, and Gerard really couldn't say no.

“If this ends badly, my brother will never speak to me again,” Gerard said, which sounded pretty dramatic, but Mikey could hold a grudge if he wanted to.

“Then I’ll take the blame. It’ll be fun. We’ll be doing a service for the community,” Frank added.

“I don't know the first thing about relationships, I wouldn't know how to get my brother into one,” Gerard started to protest, and Frank brushed him off with a wave of his hand.

“You can come on our next free pizza run with me and we can plan,” Frank grinned, and looked down at the pizza in Gerard’s lap. “I swear it’s not poisoned, dude. And it’s still good, I promise, even if it’s a day old,” he said, and Gerard suddenly felt guilty for hardly touching it.

“Yeah, no, it’s good, it just, uh, kinda reeks in here, man. Not really appetizing,” Gerard said apologetically, and Frank shrugged, reaching over to snatch the pizza from Gerard’s lap, and Gerard’s brain fizzled and shut off for a second when Frank’s hand brushed his thigh.

“Your loss,” Frank said before taking a bite, and Gerard laughed when a long string of cheese got caught in Frank’s fake teeth. Frank groaned and swallowed the bite and, much to Gerard’s disgust, reached into his mouth to take the teeth out and hang them over the clothesline alongside the other pairs.

“It’s like polaroids, but better,” Frank said. “They’re all memories and the glow in the dark ones are yours.”

“I’m honored,” Gerard scoffed despite the grin on his face, and he was about to ask Frank about the pair of teeth that looked like they had been chewed to shreds by a dog, when the trailer door swung open, and sweaty drunken guys with music equipment started to pile in.

“Thanks for abandoning the set, Frank,” one of the guys said with a playful shove to Frank’s shoulder, and Frank raised a hand to flip him off.

“At least we got to drink early out of it,” one of the other guys slurred, and Frank laughed, rolling his eyes before reaching for Gerard’s hand to drag him out the back door.

“Should probably get you to safety or you might get vomited on,” Frank giggled, and Gerard stumbled after him into the rain, laughing.

“You all sleep in there?” Gerard asked incredulously when he had looked back and found one of the guys already curled up in the corner, cradling a bottle of bourbon to his chest. Seriously, Gerard was vaguely jealous of Frank. This looked like so much more fun than living with his mom. Minus the lack of comfortable mattresses.

“Yeah, sometimes we crash at my mom’s place, but we broke a vase last time so she’s still kinda angry about that,” Frank shrugged, tugging his hood over his head in an attempt to take shelter from the rain.

“And you all fit?” Gerard asked, still skeptical, and Frank grinned.

“Yeah, it’s pretty snug, and sometimes you wake up with someone else’s boner digging into your back, but it’s warm,” he chuckled. “And we even have a coffee pot hooked up to the outlet up front,” he added proudly. Gerard was pretty sure he was drooling.

“Whenever our next motel night is, we can get the trailer free and you can camp out with me sometime?” Frank asked, practically beaming, and Gerard matched his grin.

“Fuck, yeah, sounds like a lot more fun than watching Mikey play video games at home,” Gerard nodded, and fuck, okay, the rain was starting to soak through his clothes already, and he was obviously an idiot and forgot a jacket, and if he wasn't shivering he probably would've stayed out here all night talking with Frank. He looked down at Frank apologetically, scratching the back of his neck. “I should, uh, probably get home soon, though. I told my mom I wouldn't be out long,” he said reluctantly, and Frank seemed to finally notice Gerard’s violent shivering and frowned.

“Yeah, shit, I wouldn't want your mom to kill you. We still have our lovebird mission to plan out,” he grinned. “I’ll see you Sunday though, yeah?” he asked hopefully, bouncing on the balls of his feet in an attempt to stay warm, and Gerard was charmed as fuck. He was pretty sure it was illegal to look cute while also being pelted by rain.

“Yeah, I can bring Mikey and Ray, too,” he offered, and Frank’s smile grew impossibly wider. Gerard was mesmerized for a few seconds before the cold snapped him out of it and he offered an awkward wave to Frank before rushing off to his car for warmth, and by then, Frank had disappeared back into the trailer.

Gerard walked into his house with an uncharacteristic smile that Mikey immediately noticed from his spot in the kitchen.

“Was the coffee particularly good?” Mikey asked skeptically, and Gerard considered going along with the coffee shop scenario, but Mikey could smell a lie like a fart in a car, and Gerard decided against it.

“No, I, uh, went back to that venue place again. Frank was there, too, in a different band, and we kinda sorta ate pizza in his car?” Gerard rushed out, and Mikey was already grinning.

“So you went on a date?” he chuckled, amused, and Gerard scowled.

“Shut up, it was not a date,” he said defensively, but Mikey wouldn't drop that smirk off his lips, and Gerard just groaned.

“Whatever, I’m going to bed. At least I didn't invite him over to play video games,” he quipped, which earned a sour look from Mikey that made him laugh before he escaped back downstairs for warm clothes. After he had peeled off the wet clothes clinging to his skin and crawled under warm blankets, he checked his phone and grinned like an idiot at the notification.

**from: vampire guy**

_pizza run tomorrow nite !! be there or be square! srsly, it’d be lame not to._

Gerard didn't have it in him to change the name Frank had put in for himself, and quickly typed back a response.

_cant deny free pizza, i’ll bring some blueprints for the Lovebird Mission_

He was grinning like a bastard when he set his phone aside and quickly dozed off, thinking of their non-date. 


End file.
